


maybe another day

by lukwash



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 8/11/18, Angst, Bad Thoughts, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, May Parker dies, Sad Peter Parker, Suicidal Thoughts, august 11th 2018, in in america so, its like 1am rn, mention of tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-07-01 10:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15772608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukwash/pseuds/lukwash
Summary: So yeah, what if Peter did sit on one of the highest roof tops that night? He was only thinking, which is more dangerous than you’d think.(edited! but if there still are grammar errors pls do tell 12/1/18)





	maybe another day

**Author's Note:**

> it’s one in the morning, cut me some slack for my bad writing, and bad angst, also
> 
> !!! if you feel uncomfortable with suicidal thoughts, even if it’s a brief mention, i think, pls don’t read ahead !!!
> 
> thank you.

 

  It’s hard to put it into words, so he _doesn’t_.

It’s hard take care of a city when he can’t even take care of himself, so he _stops_.

It’s hard to even merely think about his aunt, so he _won’t_.

There many reasons on why he was in his suit at the moment, but that’s not really all that important. It’s just not as usual and comforting to see a teenage boy sitting on a roof rather than Spider-Man.

Peter can tell you he’s been through it all, in a span of a week; shock, sadness, anger, the list goes on. Maybe it’s just his damn luck, it’s never him who fucking _dies_ , it’s always everyone around him.

Peter slipped his mask off his face, hearing the soft _thud_ as it fell behind him. It’s nearly 2 in the morning, last time he got proper sleep? He couldn’t tell you. God, he was just so tired.

The city below him, shined brighter than usual, almost taunting him. The moon hanged so alluringly in the dark navy blue sky, it’s was almost perfect. The Stark tower was visible from a not so far distance. It was lovely, a building holding so much power, a building so seemingly safe. 

His vision blurred, but he blinked it back. At this point, Peter’s thoughts were a mess, out of order, jumbled. He couldn’t even think straight, he hasn’t even went to school for the past 2 days. The home phones still rang, almost yelling at him, teasing him, a screaming reminder that his aunt couldn’t pick it up. And will never be able too.

His legs dangled from the edge, swaying back and forth, nearly innocent looking. But his hands gripped the stone harshly, turning his knuckles white. Peter shakily breathed out a puff of cold air, warm tears slowly made their way down his pale cheeks, dripping from his bloodshot eyes.

_If we were all born to die then why shouldn’t I?_

It was the thought that never left. But maybe he didn’t want it to.

He had Ned, but Ned also had MJ, and honestly, if he died now, who the fuck would miss him in 15 years anyway? He had no family to live for, he has nearly 2 whole friends. He was just some kid from Queens, not that smart, not that good-looking, not that important. Not _enough_.

His eyes stung as his vision blurred, his mind only ever dreaming of someone to save him, because that’s all he wanted before. But now he just doesn’t know, maybe it’s better if he prayed to die, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything, no college, no taxes, no crap ass jobs.

Peter felt his senses twitch as his head snapped up at distant shouting from below him, shaking him off from his self-deprecating thoughts. Maybe another day. But now he had to help, if he can’t help himself then might as well try to help others.

Keyword, try. Plus he wasn’t comepletely selfish. 

 He quickly reached behind him and slipped his mask back on. As he swang down, he thought deeply, maybe in another world, where I’d have a family, where Flash was being mentored by the only person I can look up to, and maybe, just maybe if I’m not pushing my luck, I’d still be Spider-Man.  
Then, I’d be happy.

That’s all Peter ever wanted.

To be **happy**. 

(Enough.)

**Author's Note:**

> again, sorry you had to read that, i love criticism so pls hit me with it :))  
> im having a shitty year (more like years),, so this is just me venting some of my thoughts lol


End file.
